HUNTING SONGS 



II 



They have cross'd it full cry, but the horsemen are 



stay'd, 

 The ford is too deep for the boldest to wade ; 

 So to Newby they sped, like an army dispers'd. 

 Hoping each in his heart to be there with the first. 



Ill 



Lloyd, Robinson, Orvis, and Slingsby the brave. 

 Pressing on to that ferry to find there a grave ; 

 Little thought the four comrades when, rivals in 



pace, 

 With such haste they spurr'd on that they rode a 



death-race. 



IV 



Orvis now cries, in a voice of despair, 



" They're away far ahead, and not one of us there ! 



Quickly, good ferrymen, haul to the shore. 



Bad luck to your craft if we catch 'em no more ! " 



Thus shouting, old Orvis leapt down to the bank. 

 And with Lloyd alongside led his horse to the plank ; 

 There stood they, dismounted, their hands on the rein, 

 Never more to set foot in the stirrup again ! 



VI 



Eleven good men in the laden boat, 

 Eleven good steeds o'er the ferry float ; 

 Alas ! ere their ferrymen's task was done. 

 Two widows were weeping o'er tather and son ! 

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